


versace on the floor

by daunut



Category: SHINee
Genre: Crack, M/M, kibum calm down, taem is a living disaster
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 20:01:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16353320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daunut/pseuds/daunut
Summary: “It’s that feeling you get when the pizza you ordered comes without that little tub of garlic sauce, and the delivery boy shrugs, scoffs at your tip and isn’t even interesting enough to flirt with. You know, complete and utter hatred.”Or, it was love at first sight. Kibum is inclined to disagree.





	1. gucci

**Author's Note:**

> based on [this tweet](https://mobile.twitter.com/lgbtminkey/status/1050770111093567488) by the minkey legend himself 
> 
> this is absolute crack and yes i have an unfinished fashion au but uni has taken my last 2 brain cells so this is the level of production rn

The sound of knocking on the door snapped Kibum out of his deep contemplation. He was deciding on the colour scheme to furnish his greyer than grey dorm room. His options seemed to be either more grey, or the substantially better- yet extremely _expensive_ , Kibum liked good design but he also liked more than one meal a day- glossy black desk he’d been eyeing at the store last week. He’d regret it later when his diet would consist of nothing but cup noodles for the next year, but style required sacrifice. Making a mental note to order it immediately, Kibum slowly rose from the creaky, hilariously fragile looking bed (he sincerely hoped it would last him the semester, the cost of rent alone had given him heart palpitations) and opened the door. 

“Hey bro! I’m Choi Minho, your new roommate,” a dazzling smile instantly blinded Kibum and it took him a good two minutes of blinking to regain the gift of sight. Attached to the violently bright grin was a young man with floppy, dark brown hair and far too intense eyes, likely the same age as Kibum but definitely taller than him. The Grin craned his head down a little to fully assault his eyes with his- seemingly permanent- expression of joy. Kibum held back a look of disgust. He never knew enthusiasm had its own poster boy. After adjusting to the new brightness setting of his surroundings, he shook his head, thinking he must have heard incorrectly.

“I’m sorry, but you have the wrong room. I didn’t request a roommate,” he said snidely, before moving back to shut the door in The Grin’s face. That’s when the Grin finally vanished, and a furrowed brow took its place. As well as a foot stepping between the door and Kibum’s freedom. 

“Wrong room? So you’re not Kim Kibum?” The Grin’s question only increased his ire.

“No. Try somewhere else,” he said, hoping that would rid him of the man while attempting to push the Grin’s foot out his room with his own socked toes. It was at that moment that Taemin, his neighbour, but first and foremost his biggest regret, decided to pass by, offering him a friendly wave.

“Morning, Kibum!” 

Kibum resisted the urge to growl at him. 

Unfortunately for him, the Grin was back full force, except now it was a little smug. Too smug for Kibum’s liking. He sighed dramatically and folded his arms. Contrary to popular opinion, he _did_ in fact know when he was beaten.

“Fine. I’m Kim Kibum, but I didn’t request a roommate, so there’s been a mix up.”

“That’s not quite true, hyung.”  
Taemin’s voice piped up from behind the mountain of a man still hovering in his doorway. Kibum narrowed his eyes at him.

“I thought you should make some friends so I signed you up!” He popped his around the side of the Grin, beaming up at a seething Kibum.

“You _what?”_

But Taemin had already moved on, assessing the Grin from top to bottom. 

“You seem nice enough. Minho, was it? Please take good care of Kibum! He’s our resident grump so don’t mind anything he says. He just needs some friends. And a life.”

“Shut up! And what are you talking about, _you’re_ my friend. Or you were, till about two minutes ago,” Kibum huffed, eyes shooting daggers at the saboteur. 

“I’m only your friend when you’re not hiding in here studying, hyung! That’s what Minho here is for!” He patted the Grin on the back, eyes scrunched up in glee.

The Grin seemed to be somewhat in agreement, even if he grew a little weary at the sight of Kibum’s expression. He had one hand poised on the strap of his rucksack, and an obsessively football-stickered suitcase being leaned on by the other. The Grin did not appear to be deterred by the hostility oozing from Kibum, and he nodded to Taemin before dropping the rucksack on the floor, wheeling his belongings into the room. Kibum was simply incapacitated by sheer fury, trying to use his brain for anything other than cursing Taemin’s existence. 

Sensing staying any longer could have a significant impact on his remaining lifespan, Taemin waved his goodbyes and swiftly entered his own room across the hall. _If he thinks he’s safe in there,_ Kibum thought to himself, _he’s severely mistaken._ Unfolding his arms and doing his utmost to not visibly sag into the floor, Kibum breathed deeply through his nose and moved forward to close the door. He could do this. Sharing a room was normal, he was definitely able to put up with another person in his space. This would be fine. _Fine._

Kibum spun round. The Grin glanced up from where he was unpacking a horrendously neon Squirtle bedsheet, grubby hands inches away from his _pristine Gucci bedding._

Kibum screeched.


	2. burberry

It had been a week.

Kibum had by now, rather grudgingly, accepted his fate. Yet said acceptance did not mean that he was at ease with the situation. It almost seemed as if The Grin- or Minho he supposed, his stupid face had a habit of crinkling into a frown if he called him that- was finding new and creative ways to push Kibum over an already well-crossed edge that would eventually lead to the man committing first degree murder in his own dorm room. _Their_ dorm room. Kibum couldn’t even bring himself say those words out loud.

He dreaded mornings for the sole reason that _Minho_ did not seem to have a clear idea of what a feasible time to wake up was. The last thing Kibum needed after studying till three am was the _Sailor Moon_ theme blasting him into consciousness at four in the morning. It took Minho till day three to realise that Kibum would not hesitate to toss any supposedly unnecessary items out the window. Minho moved his alarm clock to the top of his bookshelf. Kibum took another trip to the furniture store for a stepladder. 

Despite the harrowing pain of having a tall, chatty and impossibly ever-present being in his space, Kibum felt he was managing his workload and social life pretty well. As in, he managed his workload, and thereby negated any need for a social life. Since his only friend within the vicinity was Taemin, he thought he was justified in that regard. Minho, unfortunately, did not.

“Come on bro, you have to come to the game! I’ll be playing, so you have to support me.”

Kibum scoffed at his newly settled in (and still unwanted) roommate. “If you’re giving me reasons not to go, you’re definitely succeeding,” he replied, ignoring the mock affronted noise he got for his trouble.

“Just come! Taemin’s coming, and we only met last week,” he said, flopping onto his disgustingly neon bed while Kibum typed viciously on his laptop at the other side of the room, desperately hoping the clacking of the keys would somehow drown out the other’s voice. Frowning, Kibum paused but didn’t look away from his screen.

“So did we, and did I mention, you _really are_ good at convincing me not to go.”

Minho whined and Kibum’s left hand inched towards the very heavy stapler on his desk. If he made it look like an accident-

He wasn’t able to finish his train of thought as a series of violent knocks rained down on the door. Scrunching up his face and slamming his hands over his ears, Kibum turned to direct a very pointed glare at Minho, who only rolled his eyes back at him. Kibum nearly chucked the stapler then and there at the sheer audacity. Minho however did not seem to be too worried about any incidents of highly likely brain trauma in the very near future.

“How is this anything to do with me? I’ve literally been talking to you for the past half hour.”

“And don’t I know it,” Kibum muttered. He gave Minho an exasperated look. “Well? Aren’t you going to answer it?”

Minho frowned. “Why me?”

“ _I’m_ not expecting anyone, so whoever it is must clearly be someone you invited, as well as being just as loud and obnoxious as you because if they keep knocking on the door like that it _will_ break, and you are _most certainly_ paying for it yourself,” Kibum huffed, eyes narrowing further with each word.

That seemed to finally awaken the alarm bells that should have been ringing in the man’s head a good thirty minutes ago, and he rose from his parking spot and shuffled towards the door, somehow while still wearing a cheery smile. _Disgusting._

Kibum went back to his typing, cursing when he realised he had completely lost his place. Why on Earth that Minho derailed his meticulous system of eat, work and sleep was beyond him. It seemed to be his one joy in life. Besides taking part in every sporting activity known to man and then _telling_ him about it, completely oblivious to the aura of killing intent that Kibum had been projecting his way since their first meeting.

The sound of the door opening and the incessant knocking ceasing at last demanded his attention, and Kibum leaned back from his seat to see who had dared to disturb him at peak productivity time. Catching sight of the culprit he scowled, finally grabbing his weapon of choice and sending it into action by hurtling it across the battlefield of his room to smack the wall next to Taemin’s head, where it pinged off the shoddy surface and thudded sadly to the ground. The impact of the hit shook the entire doorframe and Kibum eyed the rusted beam with anticipation, the blasted thing just waiting to collapse on the intruder’s head. He almost pouted when it stubbornly remained where it was. Kibum sniffed. _Oh well,_ he thought dismissively, turning back to his work and actively ignoring the stares of indignation towards his murderous hand, _he would just have to improve his aim for next time._ And though the very thought of his peace being disturbed a _second_ time made him break out in hives, it would be more than likely with sickening sunshine smile Choi Minho around... 

Kibum mourned his beautifully quiet and Grin-free first year.

His grief was cut short by Satan himself bounding over to loop his arms around Kibum, symbolically representing the chokehold life had him in; absolutely refusing him the sweet release of death and surrounding him with idiots. He relayed this to Taemin and the strangulation only increased in vigour.

“Guess what Kibum-hyung! Minho invited both of us to his football game! We get front row seats, too!” 

“I’d rather bathe in bleach.”

Minho scoffed at him. Kibum didn’t even dignify that with a response. 

“You need to stop being so dramatic, hyung,” Taemin chided, and Kibum had half a mind to point out Taemin’s theatrics that occurred on a daily basis, but Minho was grinning at him like he knew what was coming, and there was no way he was giving that chromatically challenged buffoon the satisfaction. Pursing his lips, he simply continued squinting at his laptop screen. Taemin, however, didn’t appear to get the message. As usual.

“We’re making your day better!” He gushed. “Doesn’t a football game sound fun?” The younger man beamed at him brightly. 

“No,” Kibum said flatly, smacking Taemin’s claws off of him and wiping down his jumper lest any essence of his person remain on him longer than strictly necessary. 

But Taemin was not easily deterred, and neither, to Kibum’s great displeasure, was Minho.

“You’ve been in here all week, and the semester’s only just started. Taking breaks enhances your concentration! I read it somewhere in a... um...” 

“Facebook post?” Kibum sneered, smirking at his keyboard. But Minho decidedly refused to be distracted from the matter at hand. He sidled up to Kibum, leaning far too close into his personal space, even for Kibum’s own grandmother. And she was by all accounts the most overly affectionate person he knew. And he was friends with _Taemin._ But Kibum would not break under pressure, not even when Minho’s was almost speaking directly into his ear, leaving him with no option but to be fully captivated by his _stupid_ words. Kibum would _not_ focus on the small puffs of breath he could feel brushing his neck as the man moved closer, the low rumble of Minho clearing his throat as he turned fully towards him to speak. Kibum was strong, and resilient, a stable constant that could not be swayed by _anything_ Minho had to say-

“We’ll just keep on pestering you till you come, you know.” 

Kibum stilled. The room was completely silent for two beats. There was not one sound to be heard. Then, wordlessly, Kibum slowly shut his laptop, rose from his seat, grabbed his _Burberry_ coat and stalked out of the room.

Minho and Taemin turned to each other with raised eyebrows.

“Was that a yes?” Minho asked. Taemin shrugged. He spun towards the door and opened his mouth to call Kibum when suddenly, the forgotten stapler was rapidly picked up and violently tossed in his general direction again. His eyes widened and he yelped, leaping into Minho’s arms, who stumbled and nearly got very well acquainted with the floor before regaining his balance. Minho made a sound of surprise at the reappearance of the office tool, joining Taemin in staring at the doorway in horror until Kibum’s face poked round, face scrunched up in irritation.

“Well?” He glared at them both. “Are you coming or not?”

One look at the poor, battered stapler, its life fading away as it lay twitching on the floor was enough to get both of them scrambling for the exit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i do so love writing angry kibum. perhaps too much
> 
> uni is _super_ busy so my other minkey au may take a while but i will update it n this utter nonsense when possible! i promise 
> 
> anyways stream forever yours and buy FACE to support the only monarch worth caring about king kibum !!


	3. chanel

No matter what anyone said, Kibum was _not_ enjoying himself.

It was minus ass degrees and his jacket was doing nothing to protect him from the biting cold, Taemin was screaming in his ear constantly and there was still a good forty minutes of the game left. He regretted not taking the time to bring his _Chanel_ scarf, but then he’d rather freeze than let the guy on his other side spill soda on it. He gritted his teeth, trying his best to keep them from chattering. How anyone could bear staying in what could only be described as the _ice pits of hell_ was beyond him.

That was, until he saw Minho sprint across the pitch, hair flying from his face and muscles on display as he seamlessly passed through the other team’s defences, kicked the mud-coated football with all his might and scored. The entire stadium shook with victorious roars and cheering. Taemin was jumping up and down, predictably dropping his phone on Kibum’s head, but he barely even registered it because the sound of shouts and screams around him were nothing compared to the absolute winning smile on Minho’s face, running a lap around the pitch with that infuriating grin-

Kibum caught himself quickly, snapping back to his permanent scowl and side eyeing Taemin to make sure he didn’t just see the look of awe he had been stuck in for god knows how long. Luckily, the boy was looking morose and cradling his phone, whispering sweet nothings to it as he petted the cracked screen gently. Kibum rolled his eyes.

“We’ll go get it fixed at the store later, I’m sure Jinki knows your usual order by now,” he patted the younger boy on the shoulder. Jinki was another friend, or at least an acquaintance of Kibum’s. He was kind enough to put up with Taemin and even helped him out with his coursework, sometimes for Kibum as well, and that alone deemed him worthy in Kibum’s eyes. He also had a kind smile, usually reserved for the vertically challenged busker who situated himself outside the phone store. 

The prospect of seeing Jinki seemed to brighten Taemin’s expression considerably and Kibum instantly regretted his single act of kindness if this is what it brought upon him. Sighing, he turned back to the game, not out of interest but of a desperate need to erase all memory of Lee Taemin in his head. And possibly catch a few choice glimpses of Minho running around in a tight shirt and shorts but no one could _prove_ that.

Kibum almost growled at himself. He may dislike every inch of that man’s peronality but he wasn’t _blind_. It just sucked that he had to put up with Mr Bro-Dude-Every-College-Jock for the rest of the semester. He gazed down at the distant figure of Minho laughing at something his teammate had said. That same stupid Grin was back and Kibum had half a mind to toss Taemin’s phone right at it if it meant the warm bubbling sensation reaching up all the way to heat up his cheeks would stop. 

“Hyung? Are you all right?”

Damn. He was sloppier than he thought. Schooling his expression into the most neutral form possible, Kibum faced Taemin.

“What is it?”

Taemin gave him a suspicious once over before shrugging. “You’re kinda red. Are you really cold? I’m sorry Minho and I sort of, well, forced you into this.” He had the decency to look a little sheepish, fiddling with his corpse of a phone. Kibum blinked, a little surprised at his friend’s concern. Not that he didn’t think Taemin cared, he just showed it by being a pest most of the time.

“I- what, no Taemin I’m fine,” he reassured him. “I always get cold easily, my fault for not getting my scarf first.” He mockingly huffed a little. “You owe me so many coffees for this though.”

Taemin snorted, a wide smile breaking out on his face. “I always seem to owe you coffee.”

“And that really says something about you, don’t you think?”

“That I’m a generous god?” 

“More like the devil.”

Taemin only sniggered, clapping his hands in some sort of warped sense of delight. _Yeah,_ Kibum thought, _definitely the devil._ The younger boy only gave him a glance with a spark of mischief- or most likely, pure evil- in his eyes.

“I aim to please,” he said, turning his attention back to the game as the crowd around them became more animated.

“Please, all you aim to do is ensure I lose all my hair by the age of thirty,” Kibum complained before doing the same. Not that he didn’t notice Taemin’s lack of denial towards his statement. He’d pay for it in high quality caffeine later.

The rest of the game seemed to fly by, Kibum just stopping himself from mourning the loss of his fantastic view of Minho’s uniform shorts. His team won and the slight surge of pride he most certainly did not feel was squashed down immediately when Taemin whooped in his ear, enthusiastically waving around his phone again. Kibum quickly snatched the item from his hands before smacking him upside the head.

“You literally just broke the screen, are trying to finish the job and break the rest too?!” He scolded him, thumping him on the shoulder when he only received giggles in response. “I’ll break it myself if you’re so desperate to rack up your phone bill,” he threatened.

“Just like you to be inflicting violence on innocent beings when you should be celebrating.”

Kibum whipped his head round to see a very sweaty, very triumphant Minho standing over him, out of breath but still finding the words to goad him as he stood; hands on his hips and bangs sticking to his forehead with eyes bright and Grin firmly in place.

Kibum cursed the unfairness of such a good view being distorted by Minho’s disaster of a personality. He mustered up the most irritated face he could, crossing his arms so they wouldn’t give in to the urge to reach up and fix the buffoon’s hair.

“Do you mind not dripping your sweat all over me? I know your lack of hygiene is impossible to fix, but do refrain from forcing it upon others,” he wrinkled his nose in disgust, edging closer to Taemin. That in itself would show Minho the risks he would take to avoid the man.

Yet, Minho was undeterred. “I did just win a game, you could cut me some slack. I even ran all the way up the bleachers to see you,” he replied, not moving from his spot towering over the two.

Kibum snorted. “I feel so special.”

“That was the idea! I’ve gotta run, see you guys outside our lockers in half an hour? I need to shower and,” he moved to the side slightly, turning his head towards the bottom of the bleachers where a gaggle of girls screamed and waved banners, “I have my adoring fans to meet.” He ended the sentence with a smirk and shot the girls a quick wink. They screamed even louder. _Of course,_ Kibum inwardly rolled his eyes, trying not to register the slight pang of disappointment, _all straight guys are the same breed of tool._

Outwardly, he scoffed and stood from his seat so Minho wouldn’t loom over him more than usual. He pushed down the mild embarrassment when he found he was still about a head shorter than him standing up, but showed only indifference on his face. Motioning to Taemin to follow him, he sneered at Minho.

“Enjoy your fanclub, we have places to go, things to do. None of them involving you, quite frankly.”

“Actually, we are all going to get food together at that Thai place-“

Kibum glared at Taemin and the boy fell silent. He harrumphed before facing Minho again, unnerved at the stupid smile and raised eyebrow he received.

“Well. _One_ thing involves you, but you had better hurry up or we’ll leave without you,” he decided, stalking off with Taemin bounding behind him, already babbling about Jinki’s impact on his grades.

“I said half an hour!” Minho’s voice called out.

“And I say fifteen minutes, or you stay here and we use your card Taemin stole.”

“Done!”

Kibum faltered. He was only half serious, Taemin would cry and complain if he tried to ditch Minho. He stopped halfway down the steps to see a blur of a man sprinting down the steps, past the screeching girls and to the main building where locker rooms were. The girls _awwwed_ in disappointment. Kibum raised an eyebrow, was he really going to rush so badly just for food? Granted, he couldn’t exactly deny his own enthusiasm for it but _still._ He checked his watch. Thirteen minutes to go. He shrugged, and went with Taemin to the main building. It was quite a walk so he took a lesuirely pace, eyes not moving from where he last saw Minho enter the building, even as he slapped the Taemin’s hand away from the chipped glass on his phone screen again.

They had just arrived at the door of the sports locker room when it swung open and Minho practically launched himself at them.

“Ready to go! And with,” he glanced at the clock on the wall, “three minutes to spare,” he grinned, hair still wet from a shower, clutching at a towel around his neck and wearing a pair of loose shorts. Unfortunately for Kibum’s sanity, he wasn’t wearing much else.

 _“What the fuck!”_ He screeched, backing up into Taemin and almost knocking them both over. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, asshole. And put on a shirt! You’re not going anywhere half naked!”

Minho seemed highly amused by his reaction, which only served to infuriate Kibum further.

“And- and, you’re dropping water everywhere, you animal,” he huffed out, disentangling himself from an equally amused Taemin. Minho thrust his towel at him and Kibum barely managed to bat it away with a squawk, hurling it back in the man’s face as he started pulling a t-shirt over his head. Kibum very pointedly did not look at his muscles flexing under the garment and tapped his foot impatiently. He was still reeling from seeing him play, his dumb dopey grin when he won, not to mention the way he went to the trouble to race around and ignore his horde of fans just because of what he had said. No one really took him that seriously to do anything for him. Certainly not Taemin. But then, Minho did seem to find joy in messing with him, so Kibum forcefully ground out a grumpy, “Can we go now?”

Minho scrubbed the towel over his head before shoving it in his gym bag, hoisting it over his shoulder and swinging his arm over Kibum’s shoulder. He only laughed when Kibum slapped it away, scowling. 

“Come on bro, I hurried just for you. Shouldn’t you now hold up your end of the deal, and pay for the winning team captain?” He jokingly fluttered his eyelashes at him. Kibum scoffed.

“How about you pay since you dragged me out here?”

“I did that too!” Taemin piped up, almost startling Kibum. He’d forgotten he was still there.

“So you should also pay.”

“Oh...uh I mean, I don’t have my wallet...”

Minho put a comforting hand on Taemin’s shoulder.

“It’s okay Taem, Kibum and I will pay.”

“Did you see me suggesting anything close to that?”

“Hey, Taemin’s phone is broken, he deserves a free meal.”

“You fool, the kid will just take that as a reward for destruction. He enjoys wreaking havoc on innocent people, don’t you?” He nodded to Taemin, who only just managed to hold back a peal of giggles. While annoying, it was definitely helping Kibum’s case, so he allowed it. Minho looked at Kibum, bottom lip stuck out in a tragic attempt at a pout.

“Please? For Taemin?” The look of disdain on Kibum’s face was more than enough to tell him what he thought of that.

“Then, how about for me? I did work super hard today,” he changed tactic, bringing up his hands to cup his own face, doe eyes getting impossibly bigger. It was almost fascinating to see such a built, large man practically squatting down to half his height in order to do his best aegyo. _Almost._

Kibum glared at Minho, arms crossed in a firm _no._ He knew that glint of mischief in Minho’s eyes, and much like Taemin’s, it wasn’t trustworthy. The taller man leaned in suddenly, forcing Kibum back a little, Minho’s eyes far too big and bright as they crinkled in silent laughter. Kibum thought fast, bringing his arms up to push him back to avoid stumbling backwards. He shoved at Minho’s shoulders, and grabbed Taemin by the arm, marching them out the corridor.

“If you promise to not deposit any more sweat and disgusting _gym shower water_ on me, then fine. But I’m paying for my meal only.”

Minho only shook his head and let a good natured smile grace his face. He paused, gazing at Kibum thoughtfully for a second before following, and nodding at him in agreement. 

“I expect nothing less.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fellas is it gay


End file.
